Accidentally Amish (32 page)

“This is the work of Karl Kramer,” Tom insisted to the officer.

The officer turned his hands palm up. “Innocent until proven guilty. We’ll investigate, but we can’t arrest a person without something that smells like evidence just because you say he has a grudge.”

The second officer questioned people standing in the parking lot, who turned out to be three motel guests and Tom’s wife, Tricia. Nobody saw anything. One of them, who had been watching television, said she might have heard a truck, but she wasn’t sure.

“We have breaking and entering, and we have vandalizing,” the first officer said. “Mo, we’ll do the paperwork in the morning. You can come by and make sure it’s right.”

“What about Rufus?” Mo turned toward Rufus, who was silent. “The ruined cabinets and the desk are his work.”

“They were on your premises,” the officer responded. “Check with your insurance agent.”

Annie spoke up. “Someone drilled holes in the cabinet, someone who wanted to hurt Rufus. Not just anyone would have an auger lying around.”

“You’d be surprised in these parts, ma’am.”

“They didn’t touch anything else,” Annie persisted. “Not a drop of paint on the floor, not a scratch in any other furniture. Only Rufus’s work.”

“Annalise.” Rufus voice came softly. “This is not necessary.”

“Yes it is.” Annie looked to Mo for support. “Whoever did this was not out to hurt Mo. They wanted to set Rufus back. They want him to bear the cost of righting this.”

“Annalise, please,” Rufus said.

The officer shrugged. “I’ll make note that Mr. Beiler is a possible witness if we make it to court. And I’ll have a conversation with Karl Kramer, see if he has an alibi that checks out.”

“He wouldn’t be stupid enough to do it himself.” Annie balled her hands at her sides. “He’ll say he was home in bed.”

“I know you’re frustrated, ma’am, but right now we don’t have enough to charge anyone.”

The officers left. The guests went back to bed. Tom and Tricia went home.

“I’ll put on coffee. We’ll sort out what’s next.” Mo disappeared into the motel’s dining room.

“It’s not fair!” Annie sank into a small armchair.

Rufus sat on the floor across from her and held one hand up tenderly on an unscarred side surface of a cabinet. “The damage is only on the surfaces that show.”

“See! Karl thought this through.”

“We don’t know it was Karl.”

“Don’t we?” Annie sat forward, her back straight. “I bet you could tell me exactly what kind of auger makes that kind of hole, and I bet Karl has one.”

“You have not even met Karl Kramer,” Rufus reminded her. “I barely know him myself.”

“If the police won’t do anything, we have to take the matter into our own hands. We have to find proof.”

“You know I’m not going to do that.” Rufus did not move off the floor. “Anger will not rebuild the ruined cabinets.”

Annie huffed. Rufus was nothing if not consistent.

It was well after three in the morning by then. Mo returned with steaming mugs of coffee.

The buggies began arriving at four.

Eli and Franey Beiler were the first. By six in the morning, eight buggies lined the lane, with horses nosing around for grass to nibble. When the day cracked open with light, Amish neighbors buzzed around the motel. Sawhorses and plywood planks created worktables. Tools and cleaning supplies emerged. Women put out food bright with color and wafting scents. Men carried the defaced cabinets out of the lobby and spread them on the makeshift workbenches, where they patiently awaited Rufus’s discernment about which pieces of craftsmanship could be redeemed and which would be recreated. A group of teenagers, both boys and girls, eyed each other wistfully over the tops of their brooms as they restored order to the lobby.

Annie watched, flabbergasted. When she bought her condo, she couldn’t even get anyone to help her move. But here, for Rufus, a couple of dozen people—no doubt with ample obligations of their own—rearranged their day to help one cabinetmaker keep his business on track. Inspired, she did what she could to contribute. Mo put on two large canisters of coffee to perk, and Annie rounded up mugs and arranged them on a rolling cart. Mo produced a tub of lemonade mix with a half dozen pitchers, and Annie went to work. For a good part of the morning, Annie kept the beverages flowing as sandpaper and skirts swished around her.

Around eleven o’clock, she leaned against a broad elm and slid down until she sat on its protruding roots. Wet blotches smeared her cheeks, tears leaking from her eyes against her will.
Please, God, make me understand what I’m seeing.

“Annalise, what’s wrong?” Rufus squatted beside her.

She startled, surprised he was so near. “It’s beautiful. I can’t believe what they’re doing.”

“This is our way. When one suffers, we all suffer. It’s better together than alone. That is the body of Christ.”

“I can see that. I just don’t have anything like that in my life. I mean, I have my parents. But all these people dropped whatever they planned for today and came to help you. How did they even find out so fast?”

“They have phones. Someone decided this was an emergency.” Rufus let his weight down on the ground and stretched out his long legs beside her.

They leaned against the tree trunk without words for several minutes, their eyes on the bustle of work. Perspiration gathered along her hairline. Annie ran her hands through her hair, wishing she had thought to grab something to draw it off her neck when she hastily dressed in the middle of the night. She swept her hair off her neck with both hands and held it up. The next instant, she felt Rufus’s eyes on her. On her neck. She dropped her hands immediately, and her hair tumbled back around her shoulders and face. Annie scooped it behind her ears.

Beneath his hat and under his long sleeves, Rufus perspired as well. Annie breathed the scent willingly—the scent of honest work. She sat beside a man of trust and integrity.

Annie turned her head toward him. “Rufus, can I tell you something you will think is wildly ridiculous?”

Rufus half smiled and cocked his head at her. “What is that?”

“I bought a house yesterday. Here in Westcliffe.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “That does seem out of character.”

“There’s something here that gives me a piece of my life I’m missing.” Her eyes lifted above the Amish crowd to the mountain sheen.

“Knowing you’re missing something is the first step toward filling the hole.”

“So you don’t think it’s ridiculous?”

“That depends. I haven’t seen the house yet.” Rufus wiped his sleeve across his dripping forehead.

Annie laughed. “There’s just something about being here … about you and your family and your people. You once said I was grasping at air. Seeing all this generosity makes me think I’m holding on too tight.”

“You won’t know if you don’t let go.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“If you are grasping at air, what are you really holding?’

“I haven’t begun to tell you what I do for a living. I’m successful, Rufus. Wealthy, even.” Annie turned to look at Rufus.

He raised a hand and drew his fingers across her damp cheek. “Have you heard the story of the rich young man in the Bible who came to Jesus?”

Annie’s brain clicked through the stories she had learned as a child. “Jesus told him to sell everything and give the money to the poor.”

“That’s right. But he could not do it, not even for eternal life.”

“People depend on me for their jobs, Rufus. Am I supposed to walk away from my own talent? From responsibility?”

“What does Jesus ask you to give up, Annalise? And what will you gain?”

Annie swallowed. “You always give me something to think about.”

Rufus glanced up the lane. “We may be in the way of Mo’s business. Here’s a customer now.”

Annie followed his gaze toward the woman sauntering toward the commotion. She jumped to her feet.

“Mom! What are you doing here?”

M
yra Friesen scanned the scene. “Annie, what exactly are you involved with?”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Annie turned toward Rufus only to find he had stepped away, though he glanced over his shoulder to catch her eye.

“I had no idea your Amish fixation had gone this far.” Myra planted her hands on her hips. “Is this some sort of barn raising?”

“Kind of. Vandals made a mess last night, and these people are all here to clean things up. What they’re doing is amazing.”

“Well, it’s touching, I’m sure, but you’re my concern. I’m worried about you, Annie. You’ve been vague about why you came to Westcliffe in the first place—I don’t buy the line about business. What business could you have in a town this size? Why did you leave without your car? And now you’re back here, apparently tangling with vandals.”

“I’m fine, Mom. Can I introduce you to some people?”

“I stick out like a sore thumb.” Myra wiped one hand along the thigh of her blue capris. “And so do you.”

“You’ll get used to it. And you don’t have to meet everyone. Just a few people.” Annie waved a hand toward the workers. “Just the Beilers, the people I’ve stayed with.”

“Oh. That’s what this is all about. I suppose you found them in the books.”

“As a matter of fact, I did. And I found Dad, too. And you and Penny and me.”

Annie steered her mother to where Franey and Eli stood sharing a paper cup of lemonade at the end of one workbench. Eli had nearly finished scrubbing the paint off a panel and was getting ready to sand.

“Mom, I would like you to meet Franey and Eli Beiler.” She gestured from the Beilers to her mother. “This is Myra Friesen, my mother.”

Franey smiled pleasantly, and Eli nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Myra awkwardly extended a hand in an indefinite direction.

“And you, too.” Franey corralled Myra’s hand and shook it, then guided it toward Eli’s. “Perhaps I’ll get to see how your daughter comes to be so spirited.”

Myra looked around. “She has always had a mind of her own. I am trying to understand just where her spirit has taken her.”

“She turned up in our barn in a most curious way,” Franey said. “Our youngest was smitten immediately, so of course we took her in when she was injured.”

“Barn?” Myra pivoted toward Annie. “Injured? Why do I think I’m not getting the whole story?”

“Mom, I’m fine.”

Myra furrowed her forehead and glanced at Franey. “She’s behaving in such an unusual manner lately.”

“Daughters do that sometimes.” Franey’s voice instantly dropped to a murmur.

“Do you have daughters?”

“Three.” Franey’s response was barely above a whisper.

Eli offered the lemonade cup, and Franey took it—a little too eagerly, Annie thought. Before she could sort out what to say, Rufus joined them then, sandpaper in one hand and soft cotton cloths in another.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“Perfectly fine,” Annie said. “This is my mother, Myra Friesen. Mom, this is Rufus Beiler.”

“Hello, Rufus.” Myra ran her eyes up and down his height. “I’ve just learned you have three sisters.”

“And four brothers.”

“Oh my. That’s a houseful.”

“Not everyone lives here.” To Annie’s relief, Eli spoke up. “Two of our sons are married in Pennsylvania. Our eldest daughter is also … away.”

“Oh, then you can understand that I wanted to see where my daughter had taken herself off to without explanation.”

Annie saw the color shift in Franey’s face. “Mom, how about some lemonade? You’ve had a long drive.”

“I could do with a bit of refreshment.”

“I’ll get you something,” Rufus offered.

“No thanks.” Annie avoided his eyes. The last thing she needed was for her mother to see how she looked at Rufus. “I’ll get it. We should get out of the sun anyway.”

Annie led her mother inside the lobby, which had been stripped bare, to where the rolling cart held half-empty pitchers of lemonade. She filled a paper cup, handed it to Myra, and proceeded to the empty dining room, where they sat at the end of a table.

“They seem friendly enough.” Myra poured liquid down her throat.

“For Amish people, you mean?”

“For any people,” Myra said flatly. “Must you think the worst of me?”

“I’m sorry.” And she was. What was the phrase the Amish used?
Es dutt mirr leed.

“You have to admit it’s odd that you should take such an interest in them.”

“Perhaps. But if the genealogy books are right, I very nearly could have been one of them.”

“But you’re not.”

“No. Not by birth.” Annie quickly gauged how far to push this conversation. “But what’s wrong with being interested in learning about their way of life?”

“Nothing, I guess.” Myra set her empty cup down a little too firmly. “Isn’t it unusual that they should take you in? What was that business about being injured?”

“I fell and hit my head. I stayed in their home while I recovered. I’m staying there again now.”

“Well, that’s handy, what with how you feel about Rufus.”

Annie’s head snapped around to meet her mother’s eye. “What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. It’s hardly your first observable crush.”

Annie rotated her cup in her hands. “There’s nothing between us.”

“No, I don’t suppose there could be. But when you look at him, I see more in your eyes than you ever showed for Rick Stebbins.”

“I think we’ve established that you were right about Rick.” Annie pinched a piece of wax-covered paper from the rim of her cup. “And you’re right again. How could there be anything between me and Rufus Beiler? We come from different worlds.” Even as she heard her own words, Annie did not believe them.

“I’m just looking after you.” Myra patted Annie’s twitching hand. “You’re my baby girl.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “I can look after myself, Mom.”

“You’ve done very well for yourself. No one can argue with that. But in the last few weeks, you broke up with your boyfriend, dissolved your business partnership, and went incognito. A mother worries about these things.”

If only her mother knew the extent of recent events. Rick Stebbins always one step ahead of her. Barrett’s embarrassing secret. Kissing an Amish man in the park behind the bank. The narrow green house just off Main Street that would be hers in a matter of days. Yes, her mother would have plenty to freak out about if she only knew.